Something to do before I die

It's been a while since I was last at a concert. I do not feel that I am too old to go, being only 30, but time has not allowed for it. I do miss them though. The last concert I went to see was Smashing Pumpkins at the SECC in Glasgow. Probably the worst concert I have ever been to but never mind, the atmosphere was electric even if the music was not. They had written a new album you see and for want of a better word, it sucked.

The first concert I went to was back when I was 15 and was Megadeath playing at the Glasgow Barrow lands. I cannot stand Megadeath but went along for the excitement of going to Glasgow with friends for the first time. We travelled down there in a Ford Capri which decided to conk out several times on the way just to liven things up a tad.

I think I would now like to go to another one. Not your now obviously as I’m dead but now as in my now, now. Now as in here, where I am in my today.

In your today I’m already dead

So, I have made my decision. One of the things I would like to do before I die is go to a concert, not any old concert but a band I like. I just hope there are some on.

There – I have said something positive today and I am going to leave it at that.

Thanks for reading.

Fuckers

Anxiety & Palpitations. Self Harm and More Vodka

Dear Diary

I'm not feeling too great today. I spent part of last night at the hospital after vomiting blood and my anxiety levels are going through the roof. I keep getting palpitations and shivers along with the stomach cramps from last nights episode and these are only fuelling my anxiety

It's been 10 days now since I first started writing my diary.

And I'm already dead.

The doctor was concerned about the scars on my arms and I told him about me drinking a few days ago. He said if I want to live out the year then I need to look after myself more. With some medication and healthy living he says I may even last longer than 12 months. But hell, in what condition? I do not think my last few months are going to be very nice anyway and being unaware of my surroundings, drugged up to the eyeballs, is not exactly what I call living.

I'm living here.

But I’m already dead.

So I may as well enjoy the occasional drink as I have nothing left to live for now. I'm not even alive.

I might get another bottle of accelerated death tonight. I need something to calm my anxiety.

Thanks for reading.

Self Harm & Accelerated death

It's been a while since I made an entry into my new diary, this being only my second page. I really thought I would be feeling the effects of my illness more by now but nothing much appears to have changed. Physically I feel well and able, mentally however is a different story.

I used to cut myself a little as a kid and I appear to have started that up again. My arms are full of healing scars and I am enjoying watching my blood roll down my arms as I cut them with the razorblade. I seem to get some kind of morbid satisfaction from doing it. I have said to myself though that I wont do it again but we shall see, it's not something I have much control over really and my mental state of health is deteriorating faster than my physical state.

My doctor says the first signs will be headaches and nausea, once these have kicked in I will realise the full extent of my illness. It's hard to believe I have a year left to live. It sounds like nothing at all. In 12 months time I will be dead.

I'm already dead.

It's been 7 days now since I died. I wonder how it feels. I should know really seeing as I am dead but I suppose there really is just nothing. I'm not a god person so I have no dreams of a new life in the heavens. Ashes to ashes so they say. I wonder - am I buried or am I burned? I wonder that they said on my headstone. I wonder who cried, who misses me.

I'm going to buy a bottle of vodka. Accelerated death.

I will try and write a little more often. Sometimes a few times a day. These diaries are to be posted in order though so If I do not write for a week please accept my apologies.

Have a great living day. Fuckers.

The day I died

I am going to die. Not when I'm old, not because I want to and not by accident. I'm ill. I have maybe a year left to live if I am lucky, part of that year will not be particularly pleasant and I will be spending much of the time in a bed, being spoon fed and my bottom wiped. Taken to my newly installed disabled bath and generally not being able to fend for myself. It is unlikely I will be very aware of my surroundings in my final months and I do not suppose I will have my wits about me in the slightest so you may have to excuse my ramblings in later writings.

Actually, I'm already dead.

What you are now reading is my diaries. This is the first of many I am going to write and I have asked a good friend of mine to release them in order to an online blog once I have passed away.

Which I now have.

So, why? Why am I doing this?

Well, I am not old. Barely 30. And I do not want to die just yet. By the time I do I will be 31 or so, I hope. I am not ready to die; I want to live, explore and enjoy the freedom of the air that surrounds me. But I know this is not going to happen. Instead I am going to live on for a while through my diaries. My spirit it contained within these words and I am not ready to let go just yet. I am here now, alive and well, still talking and still communicating to people. Please, just hold a thought for me, if just for a second. Think about me on your way to work, just once. And mention me to a friend, please. Then I can just live a little longer.

Thank you.